1984-1985
by Kiss Queen Love Kiss
Summary: The second story of the Select. I've chosen to do things a bit differently this time, with Jack, Aly and Daria telling their stories in arcs instead of all over the place like last time. Jack's arc will be first. And read 1983-1984 because it helps you understand things better. Each story will be six chapters long, and remember, foreshadowing is extremely important. Enjoy!
1. Jack's Story: Part One

**Jack**

 _August 6th, 1984_

"What do you mean?" I asked, feeling completely bewildered by Aunt Sherrie's words. She had just told me that my dad was not so different from my mom, and I had a hard time understanding how.

"I can see you're in denial about it. You're not even considering the fact that a man with his job shouldn't have so many 'business trips.'" Aunt Sherrie held up her hands to show quotation marks. "If you tell him about your mother burning your belongings, then watch how he reacts."

"Wait, what?"

"Not only that, you're on vacation. Don't you think that if you're on vacation with your father, then he should be spending more time with you? Otherwise there's no point in spending so much money." Aunt Sherrie put her hands on her waist and looked me in the eye. She may be only 5'2, but she sure still does know how to stare someone down.

As much as I hated to admit it, I knew deep down that she had a really good point: Why spend all that money to go on a plane with your son and not even bother spending time with him? Not only that, my dad was a stockbroker. He was the only one I knew that went on so many business trips.

"Just think about it, okay? You'll look back on this ten or twenty years down the road and understand." She ruffled my hair and smiled. "Now who wants tuna?"

I smiled. It felt really good to take my mind off my parents. Besides, Aunt Sherrie serves the best tuna ever.

* * *

"Jack, do you want to go to the gardens?" Sherrie asked, while I was slouching on the couch, watching the TV showing a plethora of cartoons.

"Gardens?" I asked, reaching out for the Doritos on the table.

"You're in Halifax for a few days, so why not explore while you can?" Sherrie smiled, her eyes with a kindly twinkle to them.

I switched off the TV and looked at her. "Okay," I said. "I'll get ready."

Her smile became even wider. "That's great. Come out in ten minutes. I'll start the car and we'll get going right away."

* * *

We pulled into a parking lot with very few cars in there. Aunt Sherrie parked nearby the entrance, and we both exited at the same time.

I slammed the door a bit hard, while my aunt was much softer on the door. She locked the car and looked up.

"Well Jacko, I'm sure you'll enjoy the flowers. They look beautiful as of right now, I hear," she said, as we walked in after paying the fees. All around us, there were many different flowers, ranging from sunflowers to daffodils, tulips to violets to roses, and to petunias and chrysanthemums and more. There was such a huge variety of colours, with reds, purples, whites, blues, and so much more. Some of these flowers had such vibrant hues, I wouldn't be surprised if they were fake flowers, though it would be rather upsetting to have to know that the owners could care less about actually having to take care of real flowers and more about the money.

"These flowers certainly are something, aren't they?" Sherrie whispered, her voice low and soft.

"Yes," I said, though I kind of didn't get what Aunt Sherrie said. "They're pretty flowers."

* * *

After about an hour, we went back to our Halifax home and had soup for dinner. Neither Dad nor Grandma had come back that night, but I didn't really think too much about it. I was in such high spirits that day from going to the gardens, I suppose.

"Good night, kid. Tomorrow we're going on a sailing boat. We'll be spending the whole day on it, so eat up tomorrow and bring lots of water. Alright?" Sherrie patted my head.

"Alright," I said, smiling. "Good night."


	2. Jack's Story: Part Two

**Jack**

 _August 7th_

I tried my hardest not to let my stomach heave as seawater sprayed into my eyes, making them feel irritated and itchy. I had to resist the temptation, since it would just make it worse, according to Aunt Sherrie.

"Don't worry, kid,' she said, patting my back. "Take some water. Lots of folks get seasick their first time on a boat. Usually it gets better the more time you spend on a boat."

I stood up straight and took a deep breath in...well, as deep as I could, and took the water bottle out of Aunt Sherrie's hands. I unscrewed the lid and drank three large gulps.

"Don't forget to breathe, Jacko," she said, suddenly looking worried. "You're drinking way too fast. You'll drink yourself to death."

Once I stopped drinking, I took the bottle away from my lips and let out a burp. "Sorry," I said, feeling a little nauseous still.

"You've drunk quite a bit, Jack. When we get off the boat, we'll go to a restaurant. You'll love it," she said, with a smile.

I nodded. I was enjoying myself in two days with Sherrie than I ever could in a year with Mom or Dad.

* * *

Dad didn't come back until Sherrie and I had come to the airport. He'd already dropped Grandma off at home and went with me on the plane after I said bye to Sherrie. I tried to get Dad to talk to me about Sherrie and I's days out in Halifax, but he wasn't in the mood. He wouldn't even tell me why he never spent time with me when we went on vacation.

Not that it would matter later on, considering how right Aunt Sherrie was about Dad not being different.

* * *

Weeks passed. Grade 8 started, and soon I was loaded with homework, stress, friendships, and by October, having a girlfriend, AKA Aly. Mom usually slept a lot or ignored me, and to be honest, I was fine with that. After she burned some of my stuff, I actually was so much happier with her just ignoring me. At least she wasn't doing anything bad.

Whenever she was around, she would be complaining about back pain and headaches, usually to herself while I was making my own lunch. During this time, all I ate were sandwiches, cereal, milk, salads, chocolates, just about anything that meant you didn't have to cook because I certainly couldn't.

While I was doing all the hard work, ranging from chores to making food to my homework and having time for my friends, Mom began to take painkillers and Aspirin before going back to sleep. Once, I brought Aly over so we could do homework (this was in September), and she asked me something:

"It's kind of funny that you're the one doing all the work and not your mom. She's the parent, not you. Why is that?"

It took me by surprise. Me doing all the work instead of Mom was normal to me; it was something I didn't really think a lot about.

"Mom has back pain and headaches," I said, writing down the formula for the Pythagoras theorem. "She takes painkillers and aspirin."

"Are they so bad that she can't do work?"

That really shocked me. I looked up at Aly, with her blue eyes and freckles, black mesh hair tie with blue hair spray, her hair poufy and red at the roots, like Daria's was. Ellen, Daria and Aly always wore their hair in the same colour back then, with either white or black mesh ties. Her stare was so intense, I would've been in the ground if they could kill.

"I don't know. She _does_ take a lot, though."

"Do you think she's addicted?"

That didn't occur to me either.

"Let's just get back to work," I muttered, eager for anything that could keep us distracted from Mom. It's something I didn't like to talk about then, and I don't like it now, but this story is what changed my childhood forever, and one little thing like this became much more significant than I thought.


	3. Jack's Story: Part Three

**Jack**

 _September 19th_

"Dude, do you like Aly?" Marco asked, peering over my English project. I don't remember what exactly we were doing on the project, but I do remember this day fairly well.

Because of what happened.

"N-n-no," I stuttered, looking over at the hearts inside the margin with Aly's name written in them. I coloured them in as quickly as I could, starting with the first of the twenty seven hearts that were in the margin. I scribbled over Aly's name only, leaving the rest of the heart uncoloured, thinking Marco would ignore it if the name wasn't visible.

No such luck.

Marco looked down at my paper.

"Liar," he said, with a cheeky smile. He got out of his seat and walked halfway across the classroom, up to the front, where Aly sat in front of the snoring teacher and whispered to her. As I watched, I felt so awkward that I could've shrunk into a creature the size of a beetle had I been able to actually do that.

Marco looked back at me and smiled. Aly turned her head around and looked at me, her face red and teeth clenched.

I wanted to sink down into my chair, and I think Aly felt the same way.

* * *

Mom poured out three or four pieces of Tylenol while the cold water shocked my skin, but I was used to it. As I lifted the next dish out of the sink, a knock came on my door.

Knowing that I couldn't trust my mother to do it, I turned off the tap and dried my hands. Then, I walked to the door and opened.

It was Aly standing there. I remember how nervous she seemed to look, and her teeth were chattering, even though it wasn't cold. In fact, this being Calgary, it was pretty damn hot. Hot enough to make the inside of your car feel hot after sitting in there for about five minutes.

"About what Marco said..." she started, but I cut her off.

"Just come in already and we'll talk," I said, signalling her to come in.

"Do you wanna go on a date with me?" she asked, all of a sudden.

That question took me by surprise. "Uhhhh...sure."

She nodded. "Alright. Come to my house on Saturday at 7."

"Um...anything else?"

"No. That's all."

"Alright."

I watched Aly leave my yard and walk away. Then I closed the door and started panting. I hadn't realized I was sweating until I closed the door and felt something wet on my hands.

"What just happened?" I asked myself. "Just what happened?"


	4. Jack's Story: Part Four

**Jack**

 _Saturday_

My hands shook with sweat as I sneaked onto Aly's doorway. The wind howled and ran through my hair as I stopped short, right at Aly's door. I lifted my hand up and slowly, started knocking, very quietly, so very quietly that you could hear a pin drop.

When no one answered, I sighed hopelessly and was about to turn back when the door opened. Aly was standing there, her blue hair up in pink curlers and a black mesh tie around her neck. She was wearing a David Bowie T-shirt and pink plaid pajama shorts that ended four inches above her knees.

"You're a little early," Aly said, beckoning me to come in. I stepped in and sat down on the chair next to the doorway to remove my shoes.

"Aly! Is your friend here early?" A woman's voice called. Mrs. Black came out, dressed in a black dress that ended below her knees and a black jacket.

"Yes," Aly called out. Her dad came out and stood beside her mom, dressed in a gray dress suit.

"Your friend's a boy?" Mr. Black paced toward me, examining me from head to toe in my acid washed jeans and AC/DC T-shirt, and a long stubble of hair growing from having a skater hairstyle. "You're not dating him, are you?"

"Dear, you don't need to worry if she is," Mrs. Black smiled at me. "I'm sure our daughter's made a good choice if she is, just like Josh did with Ashley. You didn't freak out over him, so why over her? She is very mature."

"Yes," Mr. Black said, keeping his stern gaze fixated on me, "but Josh is twenty, and Aly's thirteen. That's a big age difference."

"Don't worry," Mrs. Black smiled at me, as she walked toward her husband and took his hand. "I'm sure we can trust Jack with Aly."

* * *

"How much do you like me? Out of five." Aly said, the flashlight beaming in her face. We were in her bedroom, underneath her blanket with the lights switched out. My face was feeling extremely hot underneath the woollen cover.

"Five," I said, trying not to wipe the sweat off my brow.

"Good." Aly smiled at me, the light illuminating her face even more. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Now what?"

She expected me to make the next move on her. My heart was pounding so hard that I felt like it would burst out of my chest. "A kiss?" Hey, that's what most couples do with each other.

"Okay," Aly said, he facial expression looking a bit different. "You don't have to go for the lips, you know. Anywhere on the face is good."

I took a really deep breath and pressed my lips on her cheek, then pulled away. Then I pressed toward her lips with all of the force I could possibly muster. I took them away, gasping for air in synchronization with Aly.

"Well, well, well. That wasn't bad for a first kiss, now was it?" Aly smiled, her face red.

I returned her smile. "I guess."

* * *

 _October 1st_

"Dad," I said, keeping the phone to my ear. "Mom keeps taking all these painkillers, and she takes three or four of them at a time. Aly says she really shouldn't be doing that, so I should try and help her, but I don't know how. Can you come over?"

I heard a heavy breath get drawn at the other end. "Really, son, you need to man up. I'm not helping you this time."

"What?"

"It's not my problem, and I've helped you way too many times with your petty problems. I got you your books, I got you your haircut, and a whole lot of other stuff. Quit acting entitled about it and help yourself."

Then he hung up, leaving me speechless while the sound of my mother swallowing more painkillers was deafening.


	5. Jack's Story: Part Five

**Jack**

More weeks passed, and my mother's addiction grew worse by the day. I tried to find other people to help my mom. I went to the neighbour next door, but she told me that it was my mom's fault and she deserved it, so she wasn't going to help her. Her name was Leslie Andrews. I tried to talk to some of my teachers about it, but they said there wasn't anything they could do about it. One even told me that it wasn't his job to do that, and that I should stop whining because there were people in worse situations than me, so I had to grow up.

I remember that teacher's name very well. His name was Mr. Brand.

* * *

 _December 1st, 1984_

"Jack, is something wrong?" Mr. Black asked, picking up my plate. I could feel his breath coming down on my neck.

"Yeah," I said reluctantly. Aly was out with her mom buying groceries, while Mr. Black insisted that I stay so he could 'get to know me better.'

"It's my mom," I said, and then I told him everything, from my mom's back pain to the amount of painkillers she was taking, and how she couldn't seem to stop. I told him how I tried finding people to help her, and how my dad refused to help me, as well as the teachers and my neighbours.

"Aly told me. She also said you were going to talk to your dad, and I assumed that he'd do something," he paused, then continued.

"I've been in your place before," he said, when I was done. "My mother was an alcoholic. Her husband had died, and she took it badly. Things got worse from there until one day, she drank so much she passed out. It wasn't the first time it happened, but this time, she stopped breathing for a few minutes. I performed CPR on her after calling an ambulance. She survived, and I eventually convinced her to get help for it. It didn't hurt that my wife was pregnant with Josh at the time, so if she died because of her addiction, she would never get to see her first grandchild.

"She got better eventually, though three years after Josh was born, she died. It would've happened sooner had she not gotten help." He leaned forward and looked me in the eye. "I could come to your house and try to convince her to get off of them."

"Yes!" I cried, feeling so relieved that _someone_ would be able to help me with my mom. Maybe things could get better from here.

* * *

As we walked toward my house, I kept getting this unsettling feeling. I can't really describe it. You'd have to have that feeling in order to understand.

The snow kept falling as we walked toward the open the door, as white fluff piled up against the wall. I wasn't surprised to find the door opened, considering how unhinged my mother had become (pun not intended in any way) during the past year. I was used to coming home with the door opened, and I never had this unsettling feeling before, even though now, I still think I should've felt that way before. It's weird how some things don't change after thirty-something years.

"The door's usually like that when I come home," I said, before Mr. Black could ask why that had to be the case.

"Doesn't your dad close it?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"My dad's hardly around," I said casually. "He's a stockbroker who goes on a ton of business trips."

"Aly never told me that."

"It's because I never told her that much, besides what my mom's like," I said, stepping in and stamping my boots against the black, woollen carpet. Mr. Black did the same and closed the door for me.

"Ah," he nodded, but added, "Isn't it odd he needs to go on so many business trips?"

I shrugged. He didn't say anything.

We removed our boots and set them by the wall. I led Mr. Black to my mom's bedroom and opened the door.

She was lying on the bed, in a pink, fuzzy bathroom robe and her skin deathly pale with a bottle of painkillers laying beside her. I walked over to her side and shook her, not paying attention to her eyes being wide open in a deathly way. I could have been frozen in a three thousand pound ice cube and I would not have felt the chills I got from touching her body. It was stiff and rigid, like wood.

Mr. Black walked over and put his ear to her chest. Then he rose and shook his head.

"There's nothing I can do, Jack. She's been like this for probably hours. I'm sorry."

I can't remember what happened next that well. All I remember is the paramedics coming and taking her body away while Mr. Black consoled me. I was in so much shock that I couldn't think, couldn't see what was going on.

That moment in my life still haunts me to this day, and I'll be taking it to my grave.


	6. Jack's Story: Part Six

**Jack**

 _December 8th_

"I knew she had problems, but I never thought this could happen," Dad said, pacing around the room. "If you were more responsible, then maybe she would still be alive today. So it's your fault. Take some responsibility. Actually, you probably wanted her to die. I can tell because you didn't cry until yesterday. "

He stared me right in the eye, hands on hips. My mom's funeral was just yesterday, and for the first time, I cried over her death. Where had all that grief had been during the week before, when I had to deal with all the flowers and people hugging me? Where was it?

"Why didn't you help me?" I asked, giving him the same glare he was giving me. "I asked for your help, but you didn't do anything. Mr. Black said that you knew, so you could've at least tried to do something. Why?"

"Why are you asking me? I mean, I didn't feel like helping her, so I didn't. So that's why it's not my fault. It's your fault she died. I didn't do anything wrong."

I don't know why, but something about that was funny. I started laughing.

"Oh, so you think it's not your fault, huh? Just cause you didn't feel like it? What would you say if I decided not to do my homework just cause I didn't feel like it and failed and said that it wasn't my fault just because I didn't feel like it? What would you say then? Face it, you're just saying that stuff because you're too much of a sissy to say that part of it is your fault!"

He didn't say anything. He just walked out the door.

Truth be told, I haven't spoken with him ever since, and I don't plan on changing that. Nor do I regret it.

* * *

 _March 19th, 1985_

"Here kids," Fiddle said, dropping the allowance money Daria and I made for the week into our outstretched hands. Arwa and Frada were with their friends. "You can go buy whatever you want."

"Thanks, Dad," Daria said, and turned away. I would've followed after her if Fiddle hadn't said anything.

"Your Aunt Sherrie mailed a letter to me. Do you want to read it?" Fiddle said, as he pulled out a piece of paper from his jeans pocket. He handed it to me and I unfolded it:

 _March 16th, 1985_

 _Dear Jack,_

 _I'm so sorry I couldn't do anything about your mother. If I had known what was going on, I would've dropped everything that was going on here in Halifax to come over. Alas, it's too late to do anything now. Luckily, there are some job opportunities in Calgary, and I do know that you are living with a friend of yours. I'm coming to Calgary because I accepted a job here, and I'll move into your old house. If you want, you can come live with me. It's your choice to make, and I'll support whatever your decision is._

 _Love, Aunt Sherrie_

"You make the choice, kid," he said, "but if you leave, I'll come and visit."

I smiled. "I'll also come and visit."

* * *

By the end of March, all of my stuff had been put into boxes and taken to my old house and bedroom and was fully unpacked. We were still in the process of putting stuff here and there, but everything was in our house alright. Fiddle and his three daughters had come to help us with stuff whenever they could, and by the end of April, I was going to school and living a better life than I was before. No more of that man I considered my father, and I had four kind adults in my life: Fiddle, Aunt Sherrie, and Mr. and Mrs. Black..

As guilty as I feel for saying this, due to the fact that this was because of my mom's death, the next few years were some of the best in my life.

And that's because of four kind adults in my life.


	7. Aly's Story: Part One

**Aly**

 _Saturday 1984_

"How much do you like me?" I ask, because Daria says that all girls should know how much a boy likes her. It shows how much he'll put into the relationship. "Out of five." That was Ellen's idea. Five's a luckier number than ten. Hopefully, he'll say five. Then I'll know he's worth it.

"Five," he says. There's so much sweat on his brows. The blanket on top of us is very heavy. It's made of thick layers of cotton and linen.

I feel extremely pleased. He's going to be a great boyfriend.

"Good," I say. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Now what?"

Hey, the girl shouldn't always be the one making a move on the guy. The guy's always the more powerful one. He's supposed to be the boss. Not me.

"A kiss?" Jack suggests, his face turning a little red in the glow of the flashlight.

"Okay." That would feel weird. I've never kissed anyone before, so I can't say much. Is it a rule that you have to kiss someone on the first date? Daria told me that her brother didn't kiss his girlfriend on their first date and he wished he did. I might end up wishing I did.

"You don't have to go for the lips, you know," I say. What if he's only doing this because real men are supposed to? What if he's only doing it because he doesn't want to hurt my feelings? "Anywhere on the face is good."

Jack takes a deep breath in. Then he leans in and pecks me lightly. It's so light I can't even feel it. I like the way he kisses me. His lips are so soft that I could kiss forever and ever. Then he pushes hard on my lips. While his lips feel even softer than before, I don't like the way he presses so hard on me. It's sucking air out of my mouth. Jack finally pulls away. I wish he kept kissing, even if his press was too hard.

"Well, well, well. That wasn't so bad for a first kiss, was it?" I smile, trying to breathe properly.

He smiles. "I guess."

I pull the blanket off of us and turn off the flashlight. "Just don't go too hard on my lips. I liked the first kiss better because it was light, 'kay?"

"OK."

* * *

After we have dinner together, Mom and Dad come home and Jack leaves. As soon as he's out that door, the first thing Dad says to me is:

"You weren't doing anything funny, right?"

"Nope."

"Better not be."

He just leaves it at that.

* * *

 _Sunday_

"So what do you think of our first date?" I ask Ellen and Daria.

"He kissed you, so that's what makes it a good date," Ellen says. "That's what everyone does on first dates."

"How much did you like that kiss?" Daria asks.

"100%," I say, "though he did press a bit hard."

"Then he must be worth it," Ellen says. "All boys who are worth it are good kissers and like their girlfriends five out of five. Oh, and I'm going to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

Ellen gets up to leave, with me and Daria all alone. Daria holds up her pinky.

"Promise me you won't be Sue Morales 2.0."

I try not to sigh. How many times have we had this conversation?

"I promise. You don't need to ask again."

"I just don't want things to end up the way Sue and us did."

I nod. I still remember how much it hurt to end my friendship with Sue, but now I'm glad I did. It would've gone downhill from there. I don't know about Daria though. We never talk about it.

"I'll make sure they don't."

Daria nods, though I don't think she believes me. "If you say so."


	8. Aly's Story: Part Two

**Aly**

 _November 13th, 1984_

I dial in the last digit of Daria's phone number as I hold the phone to my ear and hear the phone ring. Suddenly, the ring stops and the phone picks up.

"Hi, Daria," I say, feeling upbeat and cheerful to know that one of my friends is on the other side.

"Hey," she says. She doesn't sound as cheerful as she usually does.

"What's up?"

"Dad got a phone call today. After answering it, he just put down the phone and sat down. It's been three hours and he still hasn't moved."

Daria's dad is trying to help her brother with this heroin addiction he has. He even tried to keep Nico from going back to uni so he could get treatment. Finally, Daria's dad gave in, but he made Nico's friend Eddie agree to keep an eye on him. Daria even says he goes to Edmonton every Saturday with his fiancée Nirvana to make sure he's doing alright. Daria and her sisters also go sometimes. From what I've heard, Nico seems to be recovering. He's suffering from withdrawal, but he's getting better.

"Do you think there's a reason for that?" I ask, not knowing what else to say.

"I'm worried it's about Nico. I think something bad has happened."

"You don't say..."

"I'll talk to you when I find out."

* * *

 _T_ _hree hours later_

Mom and Dad are sitting on the couch, their voices low. Not that it changes the fact that I can hear them.

"-they said that there was a fire at the place Nico was staying. Not everyone got out in time because it spread very quickly. It took thirty minutes for the fire truck to arrive. Nico's alive, but he's in a coma. Fiddle and Nirvana said they're taking the girls to Edmonton to be with him. I don't know how bad his injuries are. Hopefully, he will recover fully."

I dash back into my bedroom and shut the door. I don't want to hear anymore.

* * *

 _Two days later_

"Daria hasn't been responding to our calls for three days," Ellen says, after we finish telling Marco and Randy about what happened. I told them about that fire that happened, but not about Nico's coma. I'm beginning to worry about him. He's only a year younger than Josh...

I haven't spoken to Josh since I went back home...

How is he doing? I need to check.

* * *

 _Six hours later_

"Yeah," I say, when I finish telling Josh what happened over the phone. "So Nico's in a coma right now. I don't know when he'll wake up."

"Oh," Josh's voice is unusually soft. "Okay. Let's hope for the best. I'll talk to you later. I've got some computer assignments to finish."

"Bye." I immediately hang up after I see Mom standing in front of me, with an expression on her face I don't really understand.

"Aly, sit," she says, her voice solemn. I take the first chair I see and sit in synchronization with my mom.

"Aly, you heard our conversation about Nico, didn't you?" she says. I suddenly notice her eyes are red, and there's stains under them. Almost as though she's been crying and wiped herself too hard.

"Yes." Why oh why do I have such a bad feeling about this?

"Nico wasn't going to wake up from his coma, Aly. They didn't have any other choice but to let him go." Then Mom stands up and leaves.

Say it ain't so...


	9. Aly's Story: Part Three

**Aly**

 _November 23rd_

Daria has come back to school. I play with the red curls falling out of her bun for a bit, trying to get her attention. Usually, it works. But she's ignoring me now. Ellen pokes her in the face to try and get a response, but she still doesn't say anything. It's like she's changed since her brother died. I know the funeral is tomorrow, and that Josh is flying over to come to the funeral.

Maybe she has changed?

While the chatter of everyone else continues in the cafeteria, Daria remains silent while Ellen and I try to get her attention. I don't know what that look on her face is. Her mouth's in a straight line and her eyes are so red, you can see thin red veins pop out of them. It's like she's become a ghost now that her brother-

The bell rings, and for the first time in an hour, Daria finally speaks.

"Been a while, eh?"

I don't know what, but something strikes me as wrong about what she just said. I was expecting her to talk to us about her brother.

I look over at Ellen, and something tells me she feels the same way.

"Yeah, I guess," Ellen says, after a moment of silence.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Daria says, gathering up her lunch. She walks away, leaving us behind.

* * *

"That's what happened at school today, Mom," I say, finishing my pasta. I look over at Josh, with his mouth full of gnocchi. He doesn't say anything.

"Maybe that's just Daria's way of dealing with it. People deal with things like death differently," Mom says, putting down her fork.

"But if it were me-" I start, but Dad cuts me off.

"Put yourself in her shoes. You don't know what you'd do in certain situations until you've been in them, and even then you might react differently if it happens again." Dad reaches out to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. "Think about that, okay?" His voice is very soft. I've only heard him speak like that a few times.

"Still..."

"She'll get it tomorrow," Josh says. "Let's go to bed." He puts his hand on my shoulder and leads me to my bedroom, which we once shared. That was before he left for British Columbia.

"I'll sleep on the couch, kiddo," he says. "Just get some shut-eye, because it'll be tough tomorrow."

I don't say anything.

* * *

 _November 24th_

"First of all," Mr. Jones begins, after he clearing his throat at the podium, "I'd like to thank everyone besides our immediate family for coming; I'm very thankful and I don't know how I would've had the courage to speak up here after everything that has happened to my son. I will always be indebted to you for your support during this period in our lives."

His eyes and his face are so red. I can still remember the last time I saw him, when his face seemed more clear and he wasn't so gaunt-looking as he is now.

"I'd like to start with a few words about my son, Nico. He was born January 3rd, 1965. I was around the same age he is now. Like him, I was just an immature, inexperienced kid just starting adulthood, like he was. It's usually during that time of our lives that we start to find a path for ourselves in life, when we think things are easier than they really are.

"I remember very well when I first learned my then girlfriend was pregnant with him. It was a surprise, no doubt, but I had no clue how hard it would be. I suppose my immaturity was why I was never the best father I could've been to my son and my three daughters, even though I did the best I could during those years. If I could make the decision all over again when I was around his age, I would still make the same choice I did." He looks around as the audience remains silent. "This is an open-podium funeral, so if anyone would like to give a few words to say up here, we would kindly invite you up." He gets off the stage while Daria is standing at the foot of the steps.

I watch Daria, with her hair left loose. Daria's hair is usually tied up, and whenever I see it loose, I remember how long it is. Mom would never let me grow my hair that long.

One of my very best friends steps up onto the podium and walk over to the center. "Nico," she starts, with her voice shaking, "was a lot of things to me. He was my brother, and we fought a lot, but he was still my brother, even if he was a bloody asshole."

The people gasp at what Daria just said. How could she call her dead brother an asshole at his funeral?

"He was a bloody asshole who did drugs and got addicted to heroin but he was still my brother and I'll miss him. That's all I have to say." Daria leaves the stage. Then comes Arwa, who's dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. What she says is incomprehensible because of her crying wildly. All I can get out of it was Nico's name being repeated constantly.

After Arwa is finished, Frada comes up and speaks. "I miss Nico, even though he was always out all the time. Maybe he's a ghost now that he's dead."

I'm shocked Frada can think of saying such a thing at a funeral. She's nine. She should know better.

"I hope we'll get to talk to him again with an Ouija board. Then he's still with us, even if he's dead."

I hear someone sobbing in the corner. I look over my shoulder and see Fiddle sobbing into a relative's shoulder.

The rest of the service goes on with more people stepping up to speak, from Josh to Eddie, Nico's friend, to some of his teachers, and so forth. The service ends at four o'clock. After the service, The Jones will take Nico's body to have him cremated. His ashes will be in an urn so they can keep him in the house.

We're driving home from the service with an awkward silence. For the rest of the day, neither of us are really able to speak to each other.


	10. Aly's Story: Part Four

**Aly**

 _November 30th_

"Has your dad done anything about your mom?" I ask Jack. His hair falls in front of him as his pencil moves across his page.

"Huh." That's the only response. I try not to groan; Jack frustrates me so much sometimes. I wish he'd just answer me right away.

"Yeah, he has. He's helping her get off the painkillers." That's good. It means we can have more fun at Jack's house once she's off the painkillers.

"Can you wait until she's off the painkillers?" I ask, feeling eager about going to his house. I wanna see the inside of his bedroom because he's already seen the inside of my mine. I want a repeat of our first date in there. I wanna kiss him a second-

"What are you saying?" Jacks asks me.

"Huh?" What's _he_ saying?

"You just said you wanted a repeat of our first date in my bedroom-"

My face feels hot. I totally did not realize I was saying that out loud.

"Uh, nevermindit'snotabigdeal." He says it so fast that it takes me nearly a minute to figure what he said.

"I-I-I am s-s-sorry," I stutter.

"Oh no," Jack says, while the chatter continues on in the background while everyone else does their work. "It's not a big deal."

* * *

 _December 2nd_

"Listen, you only did what you thought was best in both situations," Mom says. "You can't really change anything about it. Jack didn't tell you anything, so it's not your fault Nico and Mrs. McKinley are dead. I put the blame for Mrs. McKinley on the dad. Where was he throughout the whole thing? Although, she wasn't really a good person."

"Listen kid, Fiddle did what he thought was best for Nico. Things just went awry, that's all."

"Still, though," I say. I feel bad for what happened to Daria and Jack. I know for sure I wouldn't have been able to prevent Nico's death, but Jack? I knew his mom was a painkiller addict, but I didn't say anything to Dad. He could've done something about it. "I should've told you."

"Jack lied about what was going on, so it's not your fault. Neither is it Jack's," Mom says, patting me on the shoulder. "Anyhow, you should go to bed. It's late."

"No it's not!" I retort. "It's only five thirty!"

Mom sighs. "True, but I feel like you should take some rest. It's been a rough few weeks."

"If it makes you feel better," Dad adds, "I got us three plane tickets to B.C. We're going to see Josh."

"Really?" I say. I didn't see that coming.

"I'll tell you tomorrow. Now go to bed."

* * *

 _December 20th_

"So that's what happened the day after Jack's mom died," I tell Daria over the phone.

"Cool. I can't wait to see Nico," she says. I feel like it will be cruel to remind Daria her brother's dead.

"Josh knows we're coming to see him. We wrote him a letter," I say.

"Why didn't you tell me the next day?" Daria asks.

"I had a stomach ache that day." That's not exactly a lie. The less said about that, the better.

* * *

 _December 3rd_

I flush the toilet a fifth time, and I can still feel more coming. I already used up a bunch of toilet paper to wipe myself, but it just keeps coming. I groan loudly.

"Aly?" Ellen asks, "are you okay?"

"Yes," I say, feeling very, very awkward.

When will it stop?

* * *

 _Back to the present_

"Oh," Daria says. It's good that she doesn't bother trying to remember the details of that day, otherwise I'd _never_ live it down. "Are you excited?"

"Yeah," I say, "we're leaving tomorrow."

"When will you back?"

"January 3rd."

I hear a voice on the other end. "I gotta go," Daria says. "My dad's calling me. Bye."

"Bye." She's the first to hang up. I do the same after her.

I look over to the clock on the kitchen counter. It's almost ten o'clock. I have to wake up early tomorrow for the flight to B.C.


	11. Aly's Story: Part Five

**Aly**

 _Christmas Eve_

"It's been a great pleasure to meet your new girlfriend, Josh," Mom says, passing the souvlaki to Ashley. Ashley pulls a souvlaki skewer off the plate and takes a bite.

"It's the same with you, Mrs. Black," Ashley says, taking a bite. "You make excellent souvlaki."

Better not tell her it was store bought.

"You don't need to call me Mrs. Black," Mom insists. "Call me Annie. If Josh loves you, you're part of our family as far as I'm concerned."

"Thanks, Annie," Ashley says, with a large smile. I feel extremely weird hearing Josh's girlfriend call Mom by her first name.

"Shall I go get some wine?" Dad asks after he clears his throat.

"Yes," Josh answers. "Get some for Aly too. It's time she joins in with the adults."

Mom purses her lips while Dad goes to get red wine from Yugoslavia. All I know about Yugoslavia is that it's in Europe. Eastern, I think. It borders a few countries as well. Hungary, I think. And Albania.

"You wanna know what wine tastes like?" Josh asks. I shrug.

"You'll like it," Ashley says, with a smile.

"She's took young to drink it," Mom says. "I don't want her becoming addicted to drugs."

Dad sets the wine bottle on the table first, then he sets the tray down next. He takes the glasses off the tray and sets each one near our plates, one at a time. He picks the tray up.

"Annie can start pouring the wine," Dad says, then he leaves.

Annie? _Annie?_ Since when was I out of the picture?

Mom opens the wine bottle and holds it by the neck. She tilts her glass slightly and pours so it fills about a third of the glass. She then takes an entire gulp full of wine, finishing most of her glass. Then she pours herself another glass, this time filling it to the brim. She drinks the whole thing while spilling it on her shirt. I can even see a little bit of it spill onto her chest and flow slowly, very slowly, under her shirt. I look away in disgust and horror.

And she said she didn't want me being addicted to drugs.

Dad comes back, this time with another bottle of wine. "Don't worry, this is the same wine I brought Annie." Mom proceeds to fall with her face hitting the table and falling onto the ground.

Annie again. Am I not part of this conversation?

Dad's the one who pours the wine this time. I get the smallest amount while Ashley and Josh get equal amounts. Dad lifts Mom up and puts one arm over his shoulder and drags her to the living room. He sets her on the couch and picks up a glass of water and holds it to her mouth. I look away and just take a sip of wine. I cringe a little at the taste, but I drink the rest of it anyway, although very slowly compared to Josh and Ashley, who seem to be enjoying themselves quite a bit.

I sigh. I wish Jack was here. Then it'd be a triple date, with Mom and Dad, Josh and Ashley, then him and me. Instead I'm the third wheel.

Or is it fifth?

* * *

 _January 1st, 1985_

"It was a pleasure to meet you all," a sudden voice pops out.

I open my eyes and blink at the bright lights. I rub my eyes and groan for a minute, then put my hand on my forehead. I tilt my head towards the door, which is open. I can see Ashley there, but her back's to me, so I can't see who's standing there. I look up at the ceiling and try to remember what happened last night.

I think I've already forgotten.

I let my hand fall to my side and close my eyes. I slowly fall back to sleep.


	12. Aly's Story: Part Six

**Aly**

 _October 9, 1985_

"Exactly two years ago," Daria says, as we walk out of Humpty's, "we were eating here. Then Randall came. We got into a fight and I told him to kill himself. My dad was there and he was pissed." She pulls a loose end of her scarf up and wraps it around her neck.

"How do you know that?" I ask. I remember that day well. It was two years ago, if I remember correctly.

"I just happened to memorise the date. I don't know how I did," she says.

"Oh," I say, as we step off the pavement and onto the sidewalk. "Why did you remember that specific day?"

"Two reasons." Daria grabs my arm. "Stay here. I want you to remember this.

"One: remember on the way here, I was talking about how happy I was to see Nico. You told me you couldn't see Josh because he was so far away, while Nico was only two hours away. Just so you know, Josh may be an airplane flight away in B.C. but you can still talk to him. Even if you get into a fight and stop talking, at least both of you are alive to hate each other. At the end of the day, he will come back to you and you two can still see each other. When Nico died, we had him cremated and we kept his urn in our house."

Yeah. I knew that.

"Nico's ashes might be in our house, but he's not there to fight with me. Don't take the fact that you have a brother for granted. That's reason number one.

"Reason number two: Nico had wanted to kill himself for a long time. He tried to commit suicide twice, but failed. I want you to remember that."

Daria never told me that. Then again, she never talked about Nico that often after he died.

"I told Randall to kill himself, and when Nico came home last summer, he showed signs of wanting to die, but I never really thought about it. I didn't even know he tried to commit suicide twice. His 'friend,' Daria holds up two fingers on each hand to make quotation marks, "Eddie told me that after he died. He may not have died due to suicide, but he did drugs, and that hurt his body. His girlfriend cheated on him, Eddie treated him badly, he never had any real friends, took our mom's death really badly, though I don't remember her because I was three. He also never liked Nirvana that much either. There are likely other reasons he wanted to die, and no one knows the full story yet, but we are getting there.

"And those are the reasons why I regret telling Randall to kill himself. You know what, let's go to your house and talk about Nico. I'll tell you everything I've never told you about Nico in the past ten months."

She grabs my arm and starts running, dragging me along with her to my house.


	13. Daria's Story: Part One

**Daria**

 _October 9, 1985_

"Here's where I'm going to start," I said, pulling a photograph of Nico and Anna out of Nico's memory box. It was a Polaroid, and it still was in mint condition. I gave it to Aly, who was sitting cross legged with me on the bed. I went home and took the memory box to Aly's. Dad didn't really bother to question me and Frada was busy with her friends. At least that's what I remember.

"Nico and Anna met when they were in Grade 10. They had to work together on a group project. I think it was for French. Anyway, they became fast friends. In the middle of the year, they started flirting with each other and were an item by the middle of Grade 11.

"Everything seemed perfect at first, and Dad said he was happy Nico was happy since they didn't get along after Dad started dating Nirvana. To Nico, Nirvana was a replacement mom. I never saw it that way. The reason Nico and Arwa didn't like Nirvana was because Dad had an affair with her sometime after Mom got pregnant with Frada. He was planning to divorce Mom so he could be open but Mom died of internal bleeding and Dad felt guilty about it.

"They broke up for a while but started dating again about a year and a half later, I think. I didn't know this until January."

It came as a shock to me. I still remember that day well.

* * *

 _January 1985_

"You know, I miss Nirvana," I said to Arwa, who was sleeping on a mattress on the floor. "I wish Dad hadn't broken up with her. She's kind of like the mom I never had."

"I'm glad she's gone," Arwa said, speaking in English. I could hear her turn over onto her side.

"She was a nice person," I said, still sticking to Arabic.

I could hear more rustling around. I sensed Arwa sit up on the mattress and rest her elbow on my bed. Following her example, I sat up too.

"You know after Mom got pregnant with Frada, Dad cheated on her with Nirvana," she said, lowering her voice, now talking in Arabic with me.

"Really?" Mom died when I was three, so I don't really remember anything. But the idea of Nirvana and Dad...

That couldn't be possible, right? She had to be lying!

"I get that you're really fond of Nirvana. I really do. But it's the truth." A loud knock suddenly came on the door, sending shivers up my spine. "Really."

Dad opened the door. He looked haggard and messy, with his hair down and untidy. There was a stubble growing on his chin.

"I heard your conversation." In the months after Nico's death, Dad would drink coffee heavily and spend his nights in the living room. I guess that's how he wanted to deal with it.

"Arwa, I know you hate Nirvana for many reasons, that being one of them, but she's a part of the past now. Don't bring her up again." He pointed to me. "The same goes for you Daria. Now sleep. It's midnight. I don't care if you don't have school tomorrow. Oh, and I love you."

He shut the door, leaving Arwa and I in the darkness.

* * *

"Wow," Aly said, her voice soft. "Nirvana always seemed so cool and laidback."

"Yeah. We were close with each other. I talked to her how I felt about Dad slapping me that one time I told Randall to kill himself, I told her how I feel about school, I talked to her about crushes, in the same way you and I do.

"She was like a mom, I guess."

"So, about Nico," Aly says, after a couple of minutes.

"Ah, yes. Things were great at first, but as time went on, Anna began to change. On their very first fight, Anna slapped Nico so hard she left a bruise on his cheek. Nico went to Eddie and talked to him about it, and Eddie said he probably deserved and that he needed to man up."

"Damn."

"You know, I never liked Anna anyway. In fact, I still remember when I first met her."

* * *

 _1980_

"Nice to meet you," Dad said, shaking Anna's hand. "Call me Fiddle."

"Same for you," Anna says, batting her eyes with a wide smile. There's something off about her. She seemed nice on the outside, but I had this strong feeling she's a bad person. After she left, I told Nirvana how I felt.

"You know, Daria," she said to me that night while we washed the dishes, "As a lawyer, I've met many people. First impressions you get about people are rarely ever wrong. If your gut tells you something is off about someone, it's usually right. Actually," she said, turning to me, "I get that same feeling from her too. As a criminal defense lawyer, I've met a lot of people who've given me the same feeling she does. If I get that feeling from someone on my first meeting with them, then my first impression is usually right. I'll talk to your dad."

Nirvana taught me a lot of things. Her lesson about first impressions was probably the most important I got from her.

My first impression of Anna was right. She was a bad person.

* * *

"So basically she hit Nico and she cheated on him," Aly said.

"That's part of it. When Nico disagreed with her, she would hit him to get it her way. Nico was out quite often, so I didn't really notice all those bruises he had. Not only that, I never got along with him that well. I wish I did when he was still alive. Maybe then I would've noticed. I think Dad and Arwa noticed. I'm not sure about Frada.

"Eventually, it got so out of control that she even began deciding what clothes he'd wear. He cooperated simply because he didn't want to get hit by her. Eddie still blamed it on him and told him to man up for Anna. I was right about that bitch. Nico deserved better than her. Nico deserved better than Eddie. If Eddie was actually his friend, he would've slapped that whore out of Nico's life. There are a lot of things Eddie wouldn't have done if he was actually Nico's friend."

"Well." Aly whispered. The room is so silent I could swear you'd hear a pin drop.

"You said there are a lot of things Eddie wouldn't have done if he were actually Nico's friend. Tell me more about Eddie." Aly leaned forward. She gave the photo of Nico and Anna back to me. I put it back in the box.

"I'll tell you about Eddie," I said. I made a promise to myself to never take that photo out of the box.

I've broken that promise so many times I can't even bother counting them.


	14. Daria's Story: Part Two

**Daria**

 _October 9, 1985_

"Eddie and Nico first met in kindergarten. They became fast friends. Eddie was an only child while Nico was the oldest of four," I said, taking out a toy ball Eddie gave Nico in Grade 1. It was a birthday present. "They'd been friends for as long as I could remember."

I don't remember anything from when Eddie and Nico became friends. Dad told me they'd gotten along so well Nico once told him he wished Eddie was his brother, because that's what he was like to him. I don't think Dad ever thought Eddie would eventually turn his back on Nico. In some ways, I think Dad saw Eddie as a second son.

"Somewhere down the road," I continued on, "Eddie started telling Nico stuff like he didn't want to be his friend anymore because he wasn't manly enough. I don't know when that started but Dad says it was most likely Grade 6. Arwa agrees. I was in kindergarten around that time so I don't remember a lot of it and neither does Frada."

* * *

 _Kindergarten_

"Nirvana," Dad says. The light outside my door is on. Dad doesn't know I'm awake. "I think something's wrong with Nico."

"What happened today? I'm sorry for going off all of a sudden. My client wanted to meet with me."

"It's alright, love. Nico hasn't been talking a lot lately. He seems more sullen and withdrawn, and he doesn't want to spend time with us. That's not like him."

"Perhaps Nico's just not having a good week. He'll be better soon."

* * *

"At that time," I began, "I didn't really think a lot of that one conversation. After Nico died I remembered it. I asked Dad about it later on. He didn't tell me a lot, but I still remember what he said.

* * *

"You weren't that old at the time, Daria," he said. "If you were older, you would have noticed that Nico began to avoid hanging out with us. He would lock himself up in his room and not come out for hours. He wouldn't even eat dinner with us either. He started eating less and grew thinner. I knew something was wrong but Nico refused to reach out to me and Nirvana.

"In hindsight, I didn't pay attention to the signs. I wasn't good enough of a father to Nico or you three. You three are my reason for existing."

* * *

"There's something about us being his reason for existing that sticks to me," I said to Aly.

"Maybe it's because you're his daughter. Children are the most important things to their parents," Aly suggested. Whenever I think back on that conversation, I always remember what Aly said. She was right.

Children are the most important things to parents.

* * *

"There's another story I'm going to tell you," I said. It had only been a moment, but it felt like an hour. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you this earlier, but it happened at Nico's funeral. This was after you left."

* * *

"Daria, is that you?" I can't believe who I'm looking at. That bitch. Anna.

"What are you doing here?" What right does she have to be here?

"I'm really sad Nico died." I can hear how fake her voice sounds. If she was actually sorry, she wouldn't have even thought of showing her face here. She called herself his girlfriend, but knowing how she treated him, I don't think she even has the right to call herself an acquaintance.

"No. You're not," I snarl, "if you really loved Nico, you wouldn't have cheated on him. I don't know what you're doing here."

"Why are you being ungrateful? I got bored with Nico sometimes. I had certain needs, and Nico wasn't comfortable talking about them. That's why I cheated. It's not a big deal. When you actually get a boyfriend, you'll understand what I mean. You get bored with boys sometimes. You're being disproportionate."

"Excuse me?" I...

I don't know what to say.

"No." I finally work up some words. "You're ungrateful. Nico was too good for you. You could've just broken up with him. I could say a thousand things but I don't want to waste my time. Get out. I don't want to see your face again."

I still don't have any regrets.


	15. Daria's Story: Part Three

**Daria**

 _October 9, 1985_

"That's only part of it," I said. "There are lots of other stories I'll tell you about now."

* * *

 _Canada Day 1979_

"It's midnight, Daddy," I said, picking up confetti strewn around the floor. My eyelids were drooping, and I think I had too much caffeine that night.

"Yes," he said, holding his hands out. "I'll throw out the confetti. You go to bed with Nico."

"Okay," I said, handing him the confetti. I walked past the bathroom, which Nico was in, and entered his room, which was right next to it. I didn't bother to switch on the light, and I banged my head against an object. I can't remember which one it was. It was completely dark in that room.

I stumbled dizzily until I felt a bedsheet and mattress in front of me. I pulled myself up onto the mattress and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the bed. My feet were on Nico's pillow, but I was so tired I didn't even care.

A couple minutes later, I felt a pair of hands around my shoulders. I woke up to find myself being turned around by someone older than me. He was male, had long brown hair, and blue eyes. Nico.

"I know Dad told me to sleep with you," he said coldly, presumably with a scowl. Again, it was dark, so I don't really know if that's what happened.

"Yeah," I mumbled. Nico put his hand on my back and helped me sit up.

"Don't put your feet on my pillow. Now I'll have to turn it upside down." I threw my legs over the edge of the bed as Nico flipped the pillow over.

"Lie down. I'm going to go get a drink for both of us." I lay my head down and closed my eyes. Nico turned the light on and left the door open to get some drinks. I could hear Nico take something out of the fridge and set it down on the counter. Next, he went to the cabinet and pulled out two glasses. I could hear the _chink_ sound the glasses made as Nico put them down. A few minutes later, I could hear the fridge door open again and then close. Nico walked into the room with two large glasses full of a blackish liquid. Coke.

I sat up and took one glass. I started to drink while Nico sat down next to me and began drinking.

"I wish I was as old as you were," I said between sips. "Then I could stay up late and go downtown whenever I feel like it."

Nico sneered. "Really? You're going to regret saying that when you grow older."

"How?" Neither of us knew what was going on with Nico at that time. It wasn't until after he died that we learned what was going on.

"You'll see."

* * *

 _1983_

"Nico told me he makes money selling stuff," Arwa said in Arabic. "He wouldn't tell me what."

Dad raised an eyebrow. "I wonder why. Something's off with that boy."

"What do you think he's selling?"

"Perhaps stuff you are better off not knowing."

"What stuff?" I asked.

"Daria." Dad sounded startled. "I didn't know you were there. Go outside. This is a conversation for the older people."

He pointed to the door and I sighed. I didn't feel like getting into yet another fight with Dad.


	16. Daria's Story: Part Four

**Daria**

 _October 9, 1985_

"There were signs all along," I said. "I didn't even notice any of them. Dad and Arwa knew it too, and they tried to keep it from me and Frada."

"Why?" Aly asked.

"I don't know. They thought I was too self-absorbed not to notice what was going on with Nico. And Frada, well, they thought she was really stupid, I think."

"But did she notice anything?"

I rubbed my chin. "Let me think..."

* * *

 _1982_

"Why does Nico seem angry all the time?" Frada asked. She was tugging my hand, and her teddy bear was in her other hand. I can't remember what time it was, but I know it was during the summer that Frada asked me that.

"I'm not sure. Maybe he just wants to act like a real man," I said. "I hear real men are supposed to be mad all the time."

"Why do real men have to be mad all the time?" Frada asked.

I shrugged. Like I actually knew the answer.

* * *

"So yeah," I said. "Also, I can sort of remember when me and Nico's relationship started going bad."

"When was that?" Aly asked.

"It was a few years ago, in '79 or '80..."

* * *

 _Winter, late 1979 or 1980_

"You and Eddie got into a fight today?" I asked as I climbed onto Nico's bed.

"Yes," Nico said monotonously. He wasn't looking up from his book. "Now let me read in peace."

"Can you tell me what happened later?" I asked.

"No!" Nico looked at me and shut his book. "No, I won't. Daria, you need to stop barging into my personal life. It's bugging me, and what happens in my life is none of your business. Sometimes, Daria, I fucking hate you for not minding my bubble. Now get out."

* * *

"Before Nico died, I couldn't really tell when our relationship went wrong. Now that he's dead, I can tell where things went wrong." I looked at Aly. "Isn't that funny?"

"Not really. You're saying that to prove a point, right?" Aly looked at me.

"Yeah." How she didn't figure out how obvious it was still bothers me. Even Aly can't figure it out herself.

"Oh. Okay." She looked at her analog clock. "It's around five now. Isn't five-thirty your curfew?"

My eyes widened. "Yeah. I should get going." I closed Nico's box and picked it up. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye."

"Bye."


	17. Daria's Story: Part Five

**Daria**

 _February 8, 1985_

"How do you feel about your mom?" I asked Jack. We just finished our homework, and now we had a little free time before dinner. Jack and I talked about Nico and his mom a lot. He was staying with us, and since we went to school together we just talked about that. And Aly, too.

"I still don't know," he replied. "Half of me hates her and the other half wants her back."

"Sometimes I feel the same way about my brother," I said. "I kind of hate him for getting into drugs and all and at the same time I wish he was back so I could make things right with him."

"Yeah," he said. "I can't say I blame you. How long have you and Aly been friends?" he asked, changing the subject of the conversation.

"Forever," I answered. "I can't remember when we weren't friends."

"You were friends since you were babies?"

I rubbed my chin. "Maybe. I honestly have no idea when we started being friends. We've just always been friends."

"Wow. I'm impressed."

"Yeah. When did you start liking Aly?"

"Somewhere in September. Marco went up to her and told her I like her. It was so embarrassing."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "That sounds like something Marco would do. Aly already told me. She also told me about your first kiss with her."

"Yeah. It was awkward. Now whenever I kiss her, it doesn't feel that awkward anymore."

"I've never kissed anyone before," I said, scratching the back of my neck.

"It's going to be super weird the first time, trust me and Aly."

"What's going to be awkward the first time?" Both of us turned to see Dad leaning against the doorway. I remember he had a slightly amused expression on his face.

"Nothing," we said in unison, scooching away from each other.

"Don't tell me nothing." His expression turned more serious. "I don't want you keeping secrets from me." He gestured for us to come out. "It's dinner time, kids."

Both of us got off the bed and followed Dad to the dining room. Arwa and Frada were already sitting there. I took my seat while Jack took his, or more specifically, what used to be Nirvana's seat. It was years before I came to terms with Nirvana no longer being in my life.

Nico wasn't the only person I'd lost because of his death.


	18. Daria's Story: Part Six

**Daria**

 _March 21st, 1985_

"It was good having you around," I said, holding my hand out to Jack. He took my hand and shook it. "I kind of needed the company after my brother died."

"I totally get it," he said, looking over his shoulder to Aunt Sherry. She was waiting with her car on my doorstep. "It was great to have some company around."

"I talked to Aly. She's not totally jealous at all," I said sarcastically.

Jack chuckled. "Tell her to come visit me tomorrow. I want to be alone with her. I haven't been getting a lot of that."

I nodded. "I'll do that. I think she'll be very happy to be alone with you too."

Jack smiled. "Good." He picked up his suitcase. "I'll see you at school."

"Same with you." I waved to him as he put his suitcase in the car and went in. He shut the door and waved to me. Soon, the car started and I watched Jack disappear out of my sight.


End file.
